


Are You There God? It's Me, Lance

by Gigapoodle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, im such klance trash how could I not write angst about it, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigapoodle/pseuds/Gigapoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance has the tendency to end up in a lot of near-death situations, and Pidge ends up being the unlucky soul that has to get him to safety. This time, though, that near-death experience is shaping up to be more of an actual-death experience, and Lance is damned if he isn't going to be an asshole the entire way there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You There God? It's Me, Lance

**Author's Note:**

> I read this fic by CheckeredCloth and I was really inspired to do that 'Lance is dying but still being an ass about it' thing so yeah here it is
> 
> I also wanted to do it with Pidge instead of Hunk because I think that the Pidge/Lance dynamic is more challenging and idk that breeds creativity or whatever so there
> 
> Also I made this really sad because I am actually a flesh prison of angst who has no mouth and must scream 
> 
> Enjoy!

“You know, considering how many times we’ve done this, I thought you would be a little more _relaxed_ about the situation.”

“Huh?” The green paladin tilted their head behind them, in the direction of Lance, sprawled out behind the pilot seat. Typical Pidge, so hyper-focused on the goal and _not_ on Lance’s untimely jibs, or his mama-swooning smile, and definitely _not_ on the spread of crimson against his abdomen.

“You know. The sitch. The 4-1-1. _El problemo_.” His tongue rolled against the improper Spanish like butter. Anything to get a reaction out of the way-too-tense stump of a paladin. Their ass was probably clenched so tight it could start shitting diamonds and Lance wouldn’t even flinch.

Well damn. That’s a funny thought. “Are you there God? it’s me, Lance, _again_ , and I know I’ve probably asked you for one too many death wishes already but I’d love it if I could go out with a bang and see Pidge just straight up _poop_ out some diamonds-“

“ _Why are you like this_.” Pidge sighs, and Lance can hear the sweat dripping in their voice, the tension of their hands as they grip the controls tighter.

“What, irresistibly charming, with a pretty smile to boot? I have to ask, Pidge,” and he grins, eyebrows shooting up, ready for the high that comes with a successfully witty comment.  “Why aren’t _you_ like this?” He snorts at his own comment.

“Can you just-“ Pidge’s hands are a blur, pressing buttons on their monitor with an intensity that Lance is not used to. “Be quiet for once? I’m pretty sure that talking makes you bleed out faster.” Lance would be concerned if it wasn’t for the fact that this was like, what, the fourth time they’d been in this situation? Maybe fifth. He didn’t like keeping a tally.

Lance groaned and rolled his eyes, mostly in jest, but then his abdomen flared up again and his pitch squeaked and the moment was no longer funny.

He takes a moment to look up from the cold metal floor, observe his surroundings. It wasn’t _new_ , per se, but every time his sorry ass had to be shuttled to safety by Pidge and he ended up here, his breathing labored, the rush of adrenaline that kicked in to try and keep him not-dead made it feel like a new and exciting experience. Well, maybe not exciting. It hurt a little too much to be fun. But he could make do with what he had.

He was also reminded of how painfully small the green lion’s hatch was. Why was it so small? His feet kept colliding with the control panel and he had to bend his knees a little in order to fit his body on the ground and that bend really didn’t help soothe the pain that was stabbing his torso like a hot, not-bloody knife.

I mean, he was well aware that this situation was a little worse than usual. The castle was a lot farther away than it usually was when they went on missions (it was for Allura’s safety, Shiro urged, in that weird Dad voice that Lance had a love/hate relationship with), and the aliens that they had been fighting were surprisingly nimble, enough that one had been able to stab Lance with more ease than he was comfortable with. He’d also skipped breakfast that morning because he hit snooze one too many times. So yeah, it was pretty rough day for him so far.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to actually go quiet.” Pidge looks back, eyebrows creased in concern, a small sigh of relief when they realize that Lance hasn’t dropped straight into hell just yet. “This is a one-time pass for you to talk without me getting annoyed. So use it.”

Well shit. Was he looking that bad? Bad enough that Pidge didn’t want to shove a dirty sock down his throat to keep him from yapping? Now Lance was a little worried.

The edges of his vision were becoming increasingly fuzzy, but Lance wasn’t focusing on that. He had somehow obtained a golden ticket straight into the Idiot Zone, and he'd be damned if he wasn’t going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“You know, Keith’s ass is surprisingly bony.”

“ _Of all the things-_ “

“Nuh-uh, you gave me that pass. No take backsies.” His body was slowly growing more fatigued, and it took more energy than it should’ve for him to laugh at his own joke.

Pidge’s fingers were dancing around the control panel again. Yeah, they absolutely were way too tense right now. It made Lance tense, and he didn’t need that right now. Couldn’t Pidge loosen up a little for his sake? I mean, _again_ , he wasn’t completely oblivious – Pidge had already lost a lot of their companions to weird alien fiends, so it was probably really shitty of Lance to put them through it a third time. Not that Lance could help it. Still. _Probably shouldn’t push that button too much_.

But he really, really wanted to talk about Keith’s ass. “Like, considering how much he trains, you’d think there would be at least _some_ muscle to it. But no, there is absolutely nothing there. It all went to his dumb biceps instead. Like, I have to be the ass that carries this ass-less team around, and let me tell you, there isn’t a whole lot in this trunk either.”

God, Pidge looked so done with everything. “You’re like, two words away from forcing me to just tranquilize your pathetically-flat butt and putting you into a coma.”

Ha, Lance wasn’t that _dumb_. “You and I both know you can’t do that. Unless you want to give me a fast-pass to tangoing with our good man Satan himself.” Mmmmmmmm. The burning in his stomach certainly felt like hell. “I bet he’s good at dancing. Better than _Keith_.”

He pressed the towel against his abdomen, and _man_ , did that sting. Can’t think about that. Think about Keith’s biceps instead. Or something.

“Hey buddy, if I just so happen to _die_ on this mission-“

“Damn it Lance, you do this every time-“

“ _Hey now_ , I gotta add some routine to this near death experience. It’s like a good luck charm that helps to keep me not-dying. Kapeesh?”

The blood in Lance’s ears is surprisingly loud, and it almost blocks out Pidge’s very-shaky answer. Why were they so shaky? “Fine, alright, whatever.”

“So anyways, if I just so happen to _die_ on this mission, I’d love it if you could pass along a message for me.”

Pidge sighs in defeat, again, clearly resigned to the role they were playing in Lance’s Near-Death Escapade. “What do you want me to tell everyone?”

“ _Not everyone_ , just Keith. Who can tell everyone if he wants, that anti-social idiot.” He’d recited these exact lines before. Hell, the lines were so old that they felt almost heavy on his very-dry tongue, weighted with the denial that he was feeling years ago.

“Keith? Why Keith?” Man, Pidge was doing a great job at this roleplaying thing. It was almost as if this was the first time Lance almost died, when all of these lines were _genuine_ and _emotional_! Ah, memories.

“Well,” Lance sighed, mentally preparing himself for his ages-old confession of the heart. “This might be a shock to the system, so hold on to your seat, but I wanna make out with Keith. Like, so bad.”

Scratch that, Pidge sucks at roleplaying. Maybe it’s a good thing that Pidge was more of a nerd than a theater kid, because the attempted sound of shock that they try to gasp out is pathetic. “What? You like Keith? But-you-hate-Keith!” It’s too robotic, too forced, and Lance winces at the monotone of the words.

“Well jeez, Pidge, you could at least _try_ to put some emotions into your words. The good luck charm only works if everyone’s into it.” And Lance, for one, is most certainly _into it_ , because his head is really starting to hurt and his skin is clammier than normal and this is not good, not really.

“S-sorry.” Whoops, Lance accidentally pushed the button he very-sternly told himself not to. Oh well, what’s new. “Um, let me retry that.” Dramatically, Pidge throws their hands into the air, turning to face Lance with a movement so swift they almost got whiplash. “ _BUT-YOU-HATE-KEITH!”_ They’re spitting in his face and the syllables are so strong they threaten to punch Lance right in the jugular. At least Pidge was into it now, that’s what matters here.

So, he continues, with a roll of his eyes and weak smirk. “You know, Pidge, even people like me have deep-dark secrets that nobody knows about. But dead men tell no tales, and they definitely don’t tell _secrets_ , so I might as well get this off my chest while I can.” The memories are flooding back now – the first time Lance had confessed all of this, he was actually quite nervous. The words were shakier on his lips and definitely more genuine. Now, he was just a snarky asshole with nothing to lose.

“This rivalry thing? Yeah, not really fair. I just wanted to get closer to the dude. But I’m an idiot with too much pride and an image to keep up so that’s the route I took. Tell him sorry about that. Wasn’t a completely bad decision though, because the mullet head looks hot when I rile him up.” He forces a snort out and winces at the pain. “Like, real hot. Makes me want a piece of that ass.” Lance hesitates, then giggles, deciding to alter the script a little. “A piece of that _bony_ ass.”

“Pidge? How’s he holding up?” Man, if there was one thing that mulleted asshole was good at, it was dropping in unannounced at very inopportune times.

“Did you hear that last bit, Keith?” Lance doesn’t even bother to try looking up to the screen, where Keith’s face is probably located with what is most certainly a look of broodiness on his face, because his head was feeling _way_ heavier than it had any right to. “I said I wanted a piece of your bony ass.”

Keith, smartly, ignores it completely. “He’s going to be ok, right? He sounds ok.”

Much to Lance’s surprise, Pidge doesn’t immediately reply. Instead, they sit back down at the pilot seat, and wow, they look really sad. Not only is Lance physically wounded, now he hurts emotionally as well. _Well fuck me_.

“I don’t know,” it’s weak and it’s cracked and it sounds absolutely pathetic, and Lance knows it’s the truth.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Oh dear, there’s Keith’s concerned voice, like he was trying to be a mini-Shiro again. But there was too much heat in the statement, too much viscosity, which made it uniquely _Keith_ instead. And, just like everything Keith did, it was kinda hot. If he had enough blood, it would absolutely be rushing somewhere it really didn’t have any business rushing to.  

“I mean, _I don’t know_ ,” it’s still weak coming out of Pidge’s mouth, but it’s matter-of-fact, a little angry now. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and the castle isn’t close enough. I don’t…”

“Then move faster!” Keith’s yelling, and Pidge is scared, and Lance is unnecessarily hot and bothered. “You’ve done this before, Pidge, this shouldn’t be any different! Get Allura to open a wormhole, I don’t know-“

“I already tried that!” Pidge is undoubtedly frustrated now, and Lance feels guilty at that moment. “The crystal’s too low on energy because Shiro insisted we teleport the castle away from the battlezone. It’s going to be at least an hour before it has enough energy to teleport us there.”

“Well uh-“ Lance can tell that Keith is grasping at straws now, desperate for a solution. As if he wasn’t guilty enough. “I don’t know! These planets have to have hospitals or something, why don’t you fly down-“

“These civilizations, if you don’t remember, _hate us_.” _Man_ , Lance thinks to himself, a small smirk crinkling his mouth, _being a Defender of the Universe seems to piss off a lot more people than I originally thought it would_. Pidge continues. “It’s not an option. The only option is to-“ They turn back to look at Lance now, looking like they’re on the brink of devastation – “…..to just try to make it back to the castle on time.”

Something deep within Lance tells him that that’s probably not gonna happen. It probably told that same statement to Pidge and Keith as well, because man, just looking at them makes Lance hurt. Like, really hurt, as opposed to this kinda-searing pain that’s ripping apart his stomach.

“Yooooo Pidge,” his voice has dulled significantly, and he’s slurring a little more, but whatever. “Put Keith’s screen in front of me. I wanna talk to him.”

Pidge understands, because as much Lance wants them to be naïve about this entire situation and pretend to know that Lance isn’t dying, they’re much too smart for that. Quietly, they swipe at the screen in front of them, angling it in the direction of Lance. Keith’s face blinks over his in an instant, and Lance’s heart feels warm.

“Lance,” he starts, forceful and desperate, but cracks immediately when he sees the disheveled mess that Lance is. “Lance….”

“Hey there pretty boy.” Lance smiles, because if anything can really make him smile, it’s mullet head over here. “Now that you’re here, I can skip the messenger and just confess to your face.”

God, he’s so cute. Even though he looks like he’s about to cry, Lance can’t help but that think that. “W-what message?”

Lance is absolutely getting a fast-pass straight to the inner circles of hell, and you bet your ass he is going to be grinning the entire way there. “This might be a shock to the system, so hold on to your seat, but I wanna make out with you. Like, so bad.”

And of course, Keith’s confused. Man, he’s so cute. _Why can’t I stop thinking about how cute he is_?

“W-What are you talking about? We’ve done that before-“

“This rivalry thing? Yeah, not really fair. I just wanted to get closer to you. But I’m an idiot with too much pride and an image to keep up so that’s the route I took. Sorry about that. Wasn’t a completely bad decision though, because you look hot when-“

“W-what – what are you – stop it, you idiot, be- be serious for once! I already know all of that!”This wasn’t the first time that Lance had broken Keith’s brain, but it was probably going to be the last, and that fact made him a little sad.

Keith looked a lot fuzzier in his vision than he had any right to. Wasn’t dying supposed to be really painful? Well, he _was_ in pain, but it was fading by the second and it was actually quite nice-

“Don’t close your eyes, Lance, please.” Ah, now he was calling him _Lance_ , instead of their usual pet names such as _idiot_ or _dumbass_. It was nice, honestly. Lance felt himself sobering up to the reality of the situation and decided not to be as much of a jackass in his last moments. If only for Keith’s sake.

“Hey, Keith, listen.” You know, it was easier every other time to accept that he was dying, because Keith was never there to see him do it. Now that his face was shoved into Lance’s like a sucker punch to his eyes – well, it wasn’t as simple.

Keith was trying his hardest to hold back his tears, but there was no point. Nobody was delusional anymore. Let the boy cry.

“I’m an asshole who got lucky, you know? Really lucky. I got- _ow…._ ” He flinches, pushing the towel even harder into his abdomen (god, the towel’s no longer white), and he can see Keith flinch in synchronization. It’s hurting both of them at the same time.

“I….” Keith was never good with words, much more a man of passion than rhetoric. But he was trying, Lance could tell, and man he was going to miss that cute face when he was tangoing with the devil. Maybe the devil _was_ better at dancing, but he loved every second of stumbling around clumsily with Keith, feet stepping on each other and snuck-in kisses on the mouth that tasted like peaches and sweat. “ _I’m_ the asshole who got lucky. You know. You make me re-“ Keith hiccups out a really, really painful _sob_ – “r-r-really happy.” Keith’s eyes twitch down, if only for a moment. “Don’t die on me, Lance.”

Lance ignores that statement, because it hurts too much. “I probably never deserved you-“

“ _Don’t say stuff like that-_ “

“Just let me have this.” Lance is unusually stern, because his heart hurts, and he’s dying. “Let me be sappy. Ok? I need this.”

Mutely, Keith nods, and god, it all hurts so much.

“Anyways,” He continues, as if he’s simply walking his dog in the park on a sunny day. “I probably never deserved you, and I have no idea what I did to get you. I am an idiot and I am an asshole. You are sometimes an idiot and sometimes an asshole but we aren’t even in the same ballpark.” He stalls for a minute, needing to steady his head and force his eyes open. Keith somehow understands, despite his tears, and man, they really _were_ a good team.

Then he remembers. “Oh yeah, Pidge, sorry I’m forcing you to hear this crap. I’m a little pressed for options here.” His head inches in the direction of the pilot, and he can tell, they’re crying too. They give a shaky thumbs up to Lance, refusing to say anything else, and everything _hurts so badly_.

“So. Point is. I want you to be happy, Keith. You made me really happy, and I hope I did the same to you, because if you felt even a fraction of the happiness that I felt when you were around, then you might as well be the sun, because _wow_. Y’know?” And for some reason, Lance looks for some sign of reassurance from Keith, as if he needed confirmation that he wasn’t a complete dick, and Keith smiles, because Keith can read Lance like the back of his hand, and _dang_ that is a heck of a smile. Lance has gotta latch on to everything at this point. Anyways.

“Just….” And suddenly Lance realizes that he has no idea where he was going with this rant. So, fuck it, it’s time for Lance to be real.

“Just don’t let me hold you back, ok?” Lance swallows, his mouth all dust and dead skin, because he sees how Keith’s eyebrows crease in anger and he feels really bad about all of this. “Do what you need to do to be happy. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be happy with whatever you do, because I love you.” The words shouldn’t feel foreign on his tongue – he’s said them plenty before, after all – but the gravity of the situation puts a weight on them that makes his tongue go weak. “I really do, Keith, so please, just do what makes you happy, ok?”

Lance has never seen Keith such a mess. His hair is bunched up in front of his face, greasy and tangled, and his palms are pressed against his eyes in an attempt to dam the river of tears that are sweeping down his face. He looks like a hurricane, all water and ferociousness, threatening to take down anything in his path.

 “You’re not going to die,” Keith growls, convincing nobody, and his hands lash out like claws against the digital surface, as if he wants to try and crawl through the screen and grip Lance himself. “What makes me happy is _you_ , so don’t die, don’t you dare die…..”

The silence between them is too hollow, and it’s making Lance uncomfortable, because he’s having a really hard time saying anything anymore. His body is shutting down on him, and his vision is turning black and white, the red paladin fading into a dark maroon, and then grey. Maybe he wasn’t going to Hell after all. Maybe his too-lucky self would end up in Heaven somehow, and maybe he’d end up there with Keith someday. It’s a nice thought, and it’s all Lance really has to hold onto as his feels himself lifting from the ground, fading away like smoke on a starry night.

“Sorry, Keith,” and it’s a whisper, dry and harsh. “Time to checkout.”

“ _Don’t checkout on me, you’re not gonna die,_ ” He’s lashing out at the screen now, and it’s glitching with static. “ _You’re not gonna die, I love you, you asshole, don’t do this to me, please…._ ”

He can’t really hear the sounds of Keith’s virtual tirade, or Pidge’s last-minute attempts to open up a wormhole, because his ears have all but given up on him. He chooses to use his last minutes to talk to God, because now he’s all wrapped up in this idea of going to Heaven with Keith, and he’s not a man above last-minute groveling towards a higher being.

_Hey God, Lance again. I don’t really care what you do with me, because I’m already dead and I deserve whatever I get. Just make sure that Keith ends up alright, alright? And if you’re feeling generous, have him end up with me. I did die protecting the universe, after all, and he will too, so that would be nice. Matter of fact, it would be really cool if all of the Paladins end up together, but that might be too much to ask, so for now I’ll just focus on Keith. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s actually really cool if you get to know him, so maybe throw him a bone and make sure the rest of his life is happy, because I have a feeling he’s about to hit a rough patch, and he really don’t deserve that._

_I’m rambling. Sorry, God, I’m sure you’re pretty busy, so I’ll keep it short. Make sure Keith’s happy, that’s all I care about. I don’t care if he ends up falling in love with someone else. I’m the ass that left him, so I won’t be mad about it. In fact, I’ll probably be happy about it, because a happy Keith makes me happier than anything. Ok? I love him. Make him happy. That’s all I ask._

_Thanks buddy. I guess it’s time to move on._

And it’s all white.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if this was as funny/skilled as I thought it was so feel free to be honest with me because honesty is good in any situation
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr @gigapoodle or @arcasangels if you wanna talk about shit


End file.
